


Broken Shackles

by littlebirdlara



Series: A different time, same feelings (Modern AU stories) [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Madara being his usual manipulative self, Obito dealing with his anger issues, only rated M because I feel like it deals with some heavy stuff, the abuse is not so implied if you know how to look for it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 23:27:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21216800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlebirdlara/pseuds/littlebirdlara
Summary: Obito visits his dying uncle in the hospital and regrets it.(Set before NDL)





	Broken Shackles

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something I wrote to explore Obito's POV a bit more...

Obito watches the numbers of the elevator go down along with his mood. He hates going to the hospital, so he always ends up not going until late at night. The sound of the machinery's descent reverberates through the facility. When he leaves the elevator, the stench of death filters through his being. Of course, none of the patients situated in this section are actually dead. Yet. They're on the verge of dying, the thread of life just barely hanging from their bodies in the shape of various support systems – making hearts beat with every pulse of the machine.

The hallway is flooded in a pale light that causes color to ooze out of the walls. They are painted green to inspire hope and life; but the way the light refracts onto the cold floor only reminds him of sickness. Obito feels sick. Every time he enters this hallway, more out of sense of obligation than anything else, he feels sick: sick of this hallway, sick of imminent death permeating his body, but never claiming him or the person behind the door. Death treats all life equally, playing no favorites. Yet somehow life keeps favoring the old man located here. It clings to him like a parasite, ever postponing his final moments of rest. And until that time comes, Obito can't rest either.

He takes a deep breath before entering the room of his uncle who refuses to die. The room is almost barren, filled only with darkness at this late hour. Obito paces to the far end of it where Madara lies in his bed, seemingly asleep. A peaceful expression rests on his face, creating a stark contrast to the images rushing through Obito's mind. He almost expects the pile of fragile bones lying there to lash out on him. Instead, a low voice strains the curtains of silence open between ragged breaths, accompanied by the steady beeping of technology.

“You've been visiting more often lately.”

Obito stares at the window, unbothered by the fact that the shutters block out the view.

“Gotta make sure you're still kicking”, he manages to say without sounding bitter about it.

“Who knows how much longer that will be.”

A pained sound that's supposed to resemble laughter escapes Obito's throat. Hopefully not much longer.

“Well apparently, you're too stubborn even for death.”

_Just die already – _he doesn't say.

Madara laughs then – the sound an empty shell of what it used to be. It still sends Obito into a state of alert that years of merciless conditioning have led to.

“What you call stubbornness, I've turned into an asset. And you will see it reach even beyond.”

He feels Madara looking at him, his gaze probably loaded with expectation. Obito doesn't want to voice his acknowledgment because it would indicate commitment. He chooses to respond in a half-grunt half-hum instead. He has long stopped listening to his indirect orders, but forced habit had him react anyway.

“Tell me. Why have you really come here?”

Obito challenges,“What? I can't just visit my _lovely_ uncle anymore?”

“If only there were an audience to witness this show. You've come to talk about my will, haven't you”, Madara says flatly.

He should have expected that he would look through him and lay his intentions open.

“No need for talking, just sign the papers.”

Obito rummages through his bag and produces the mentioned documents. He presents them cleanly in front of Madara along with a pen. If there is one thing they have in common, it's being direct to the point of being forceful.

Neither of them speaks as Madara takes the time to read through the papers. Obito hides his nervousness along with his fidgeting hands in his pockets.

Madara eventually lifts his gaze to address him,“Hmm, you seem to have taken this seriously. I see no issue with this.”

“So? Sign it.”

“I will, under one condition–”

Obito draws in a sharp breath. Of course, it couldn't be that easy. He already half expects the words that follow.

“You will dedicate yourself to my branch in the family business.”

Obito falls out of his perfectly studied act, then. Perhaps seeing the weakened form of his uncle is what fills him with enough courage to speak his mind. Or perhaps it's because the very idea of his demand makes him feel sick to the stomach.

“_Haha, no_. I'd sooner die than do that.”

“Then you will be left with nothing.”

Obito feels the anger rush through his veins, frustration prickling below his skin.

Madara continues,“Not that you had much to begin with. I _made_ you who you are, gave you direction. The least you could do is repay the favor.”

_Shut up. Shut up. Shut up._ Obito screams internally, each repetition another block to build a wall of defense against the words aimed at him. The way Madara says each word so firmly, despite death looming over him, sets Obito's nerves on fire. Even from his dying bed he dared to mold him into a copy of himself.

“Keep your shit then”, Obito spits, “I'm done with you.”

He picks up his bag and heads for the door, but the sound of rustling paper stops him in his tracks.

“Don't forget _this._”

Obito doesn't even turn around.

“_Choke on it._”

He slams the door behind him.

–

Obito stares down at the river – color pitch-black from reflecting the night sky. He's propped against the railing of the bridge, a cigarette dangling loosely from his fingers. He had stopped years ago, but given the situation he couldn't help himself. The phone in his pocket vibrates. Obito stares at the notification lighting up his screen and flicks his cigarette.

[00:34] Konan: Haven't heard from you in a while. Not that I particularly care, but Nagato told me to check up on you.

He puts the phone back without replying. He wants to be left alone.

A while later, it vibrates again.

[00:45] Konan: Oh also, we're all meeting sometime later this month to catch up with each other. Just let me know if you're coming or not, so I can tell the others. You were really central to the group, so it would be nice having you. I guess.

He leaves her on Read.

[00:52] Konan: Actually, I take that back. You're an ass.

[00:55] Konan: Are you being difficult on purpose? I know you're reading these.

Obito snorts and unlocks his phone with his unoccupied hand.

[00:56] relax. i was gonna reply when i felt like it

[00:56] Konan: Thank you for finally blessing me with your presence. :)

[00:56] youre welcome

[00:57] Konan: …

[00:57] Konan: So, how are you doing?

[00:58] fantastic i just got disowned

[00:58] Konan: Again?

[00:58] shut up

[00:58] yes

[00:59] again

He takes a long drag from his cigarette before letting out the smoke into the cold night air.

[01:02] Konan: I hate saying this... but I'm here if you need to talk.

Before he can even think about formulating his response, his phone vibrates again – this time with an incoming call from the hospital. Obito sighs with frustration but picks up anyway.

At first, he expects another routine call but it is way too late for that. Although he realizes that only after the words he hears coming from the other end begin to sink in. _I am sorry to inform you of your uncle's passing_. The cigarette falls onto the dirty pavement. The words dissipate into smoke. Madara Uchiha is dead. Just like that. Some other words follow after, expressing their deepest condolences and telling him about his upcoming responsibilities as a spokesperson but he can hardly make them out.

Obito somehow manages to wrap up the call, despite not being fully conscious of what he's saying. He vaguely recalls agreeing to go there tomorrow to deal with everything. It all feels too surreal, an experience way beyond him. He drags his hand down his face, letting out a shaky breath once the night air embraces his features again. All this time he wanted nothing more than to get rid of that man, yet, now that it finally happened, he feels the weight of it drag him down. Is he actually feeling affected by his death? Or is it just shock? Either way, he's surprised he feels anything at all. Even if that feeling is an ever consuming nothingness.

His mind drifts past empty feelings, his body through empty streets, and eventually he finds himself back 'home'. Madara's home – a cage now broken open.

–

The last few weeks have been so eventful, Obito has to make an effort to distinguish the days from each other. He has lost his thoughts somewhere amidst the chaos of the funeral preparations. He is going to have to consult his family about it, so a trip to Konoha is inevitable.

What little belongings he has are packed and ready for his departure. He has found a cheap place by extension of one of Konan's friends. They were friendly enough to leave the place furnished, too. Something something about wanting to start over in their new place. He can get behind that. He doesn't even know if he wants to stay in Konoha yet, but it will work as a temporary solution to get away from this place until everything gets sorted out.

And so he takes one last look at Madara's house before closing the door behind him.


End file.
